


There were too many things

by dingodungarees



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Billford - Freeform, M/M, fordsys in denial about everything, mentioned stancest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 22:03:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5557208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dingodungarees/pseuds/dingodungarees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are too many things Ford has had, too many memories and nothing to go back to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There were too many things

There were too many things, too many anomalies, too many thing like him, odd and strange. He almost missed the normalcy of it all. Just him and Stanley, best friends, brothers, for a time forever and ever. But that was not the problem now. Even with the problem with Stan, look at all his accomplishments! He could not be distracted now. He needed to find the answer. The answer to the universe or what the hell was bringing all of this into his world. There was one place Ford had not visited during his long stay in Gravity Falls. There was a small cave he had spotted two weeks ago when he was investigating the large dinosaurs still trapped in the massive amount of amber. It had not been a cave. It had been a small crack in the ground. A peculiar crack, one which had been glowing, or maybe it had been a trick of the eye. So he kneeled down to take a closer look, his one eye open to look wide eyed at the glowing light buried beneath the ground. It almost blinded him, voices bounding in his head until he back away. He ran. Hran so fast he left half of his equipment with the dinosaurs. save me, release me, i will show you the way. save me, release me, i will show you everything you have ever wanted. please just open the crack, take a look. ple- The words that bounced in his brain still remained there as he packed more equipment in an effort to return to the dinosaurs and that mysterious, almost pleading voice. He knew he shouldn’t, he knew how strange everything was. But that voice… So along Ford went, returning to the place of the dinosaurs, amber slowly dripping as the seconds passed. Time melted everything, it seemed. He found the crack and did as he did two weeks before, the voice returning. your back! save me, release me! And down went his steel toed boots, up and down again, hitting the ground harder than he had hit anything else. After many stomps, the crack opened and he fell through the hole that seemed bigger than he had actually made it. He landed softly and his eyes were shown the myriad of drawing that lay upon the new caves walls. People and animals all worshipping the same thing, a triangle with a singular eye, a strange latin text swirling around the things deranged eye, the voices growing louder but not clearer. He did not recognize this type of latin, he couldn’t read it. But he did nonetheless, too bothered to translate. The eye glowed,but nothing happened. Ford left, the voice having stopped. He climbed out of the cave like he had two left feet and retreated from the dinosaurs and to his favorite reading spot. His eyes closed. Then they opened slowly, his eyelashes fluttering. Ford was bounding through another dimension it seemed, blue smoke and mirrors. All his research floating, all gold and glittering. And there he stood, rather hovered. The shape on the wall, one large eye gazing at Ford in wonder, his stick-like arms fixing his bowtie, his top hat as he reappeared right in front of Ford’s nose, creating a hideous glare on his glasses. “Hiya, Smart Guy!” it said, the voice eerily similar to the one he had heard in his head earlier. The creature zoomed around his head, causing Ford to flinch and the thing joked about not having a heart attack. The things name was Bill, as it lavishly lowered his hat, leaving Ford very, very confused. All Ford’s three names came out of the demon’s mouth, and soon he was sitting down drinking tea and playing chess. It had been a lovely conversation, the demon simply charming, and always knowing exactly what to say. Bill said he wanted to inspire and Ford was eager to hear him out. To inspire was Bill’s passion. He found the most brilliant minds and helped make them even better. Bill spoke fluently in the language of astrophysics and the lovely speech of old aged mathematics. Ford beat Bill twice, and the way Bill laughed made his face burn. He couldn’t remember his stress or his confusion. All the angst over his brother? He could not remember Stan’s full name. He was too transfixed by the demon in front of him, who seemed eager to listen to Ford’s ideas, Ford’s ideas that no one had ever cared about. Ford’s ideas that made Bill’s eye squint and that disembodied laugh reveal. Bill said he had never met anyone like Stanford Filbrick Pines. And with that and many more dreams, Ford shook that stick-like hand. The rush he felt whenever Bill possessed him never failed to exhilarate him. The way Bill played around in his body, the way Fiddleford never knew… The ideas, the possibilities. Ford was drunk on the possibilities, a future with his new partner. Bill would flatter Ford to no end, running tiny fingers through his messy hair, studying him with that large eye, the feeling of his own hands being controlled by his new role model. The feeling of the hands going down, down… Ford was drunk on his new “friend”, often forgetting his ultimate goal. The voices in his head never stopped, and he didn’t mind. He’d think they were Bill, just keeping an eye on him. that feeling he got when he knew Bill was always watching. The ideas, the enticing conversation, that flirty voice. The charm that all ended in tears. Fiddleford suspected. Stan denied, forgetting the last time he had been in denial. With who though? What other partnership had ended in tears? He couldn’t remember at the time. But when Bill left him, his world shut down, the portal shut down. He went crazy, the voices a growing rash in his mind. Stan coming back to him, leaving him, Bill’s ugly, seductive, goddamn laugh. He needed the feeling. He wanted the rush. So close. Waiting for his pupils to become slits in his sockets, the feeling of power and weakness over him. Missing Stan, what they had back in highschool, in their younger years. He missed the kisses, he missed everything because he made a horrible shot. He missed, he missed. Crazy. Crazy in love and in passion and in forgetting and remembering. Who are you, Stanford Pines? The man who pushed away his brother, had an an affair with the devil, ripped up time and space, and made your best friend go insane. The eyes. All the eyes that made up one. Who are you, Stanford Pines? And will you get yourself back

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are appreciated! Thank you for reading!


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